


until we get there

by unrequitedexistence



Category: Holby City
Genre: CampWolfe, F/F, berena - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 17:46:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrequitedexistence/pseuds/unrequitedexistence
Summary: "what do you sayis this the timefor one more tryat a happy lifeso what do you sayis it unwiseto think my fearswill not reprise"Serena respects Bernie's reluctance, but she had something else in mind...





	until we get there

Smoking up on the roof wasn’t _strictly_ prohibited, but it was also not endorsed and seldom suggested. To be fair, the all-encompassing exposure to the more often than not melodramatic weather kept most of the staff at bay. In addition, the steepness and moroseness of the steps leading up to it required a level of motivation that only once in a blue moon matched the frame of mind of the one craving the nicotine.

Bernie Wolfe reveled in the challenge, particularly when the _yearning_ decided to make an appearance in the course of an occasionally drawn-out afternoon. The cardiovascular exercise kept her on her toes and was usually rewarded by the liberating atmosphere of the _up above_. She would close her eyes, inhaling and exhaling at a lulling pace, and would then allow her mind to wander within, becoming more in tune with her body. No questions, no curious or piercing glances… just _peace_.

Cigarette tucked safely between her lips, she found herself having to apply a fair amount of pressure for the door to surrender. She was instantly met by a blast of air that had her losing her footing for a split second. The weather seemed to be having a bit of an identity crisis but she was able to regain her balance without having to come into contact with the ground.

She was in the midst of supporting her hair on the dynamic battle against the rushes of wind when her eyes first laid on her.

 _Serena Campbell_.

The brunette was sat down, her back against the wall that followed the line of the door. Her legs were extended and her feet crossed, her eyes were closed and her face seemed almost… _content_. She was wearing blue scrubs, her arms exposed to the radical elements while a perfectly folded grey hoodie rested on her lap. She seemed oblivious of the storm brewing about her, absolutely undaunted even by small drops of rain that had begun to fall.

“I think you meant to light it.”

Serena’s voice never _broke_ the silence. Instead, it _filled_ it. No matter the situation, including even their _slightly_ awkward lift experience, her voice always felt like it somehow _belonged_. It was oddly… _reassuring_. The exact same feeling transpired of Serena’s relationship with space. It was almost as if she was synchronized with the universe at some higher level. She felt… _meant to be_.

Bernie had always been good at _playing_ social, but she had never been _that_ good at _being_ social. She had a hard time trusting people, opening up to them, letting them into the backstage of her _big macho army medic_ façade. Serena had arrived and, one way or another, found the door to be open. She hadn’t knocked and yet somehow Bernie’s self-preservation system hadn’t sounded the alarm, hadn’t labeled her as an intruder. She had gone from stranger to part of the picture in a handshake and now it was as if she had _always_ been there.

Speaking of first encounters, theirs had certainly been one for the books. The blonde couldn’t help but smile at the brunette’s choice of words. She had never met anyone as unapologetically candid as Serena Campbell. She was graceful with her vocabulary, unless the situation required otherwise, but the content came across loud and clear. And how she teased! Her tongue sharp, incredibly clever and tainted with a sense of humor that had the world at her feet. Even after _the kiss_ …

Bernie had to look down, her cigarette having found its way between her fingers as she bit her lower lip. Just thinking about it made her tingle from head to toe. Contrary to popular belief, it hadn’t been a _in the heat of the moment_ thing. Their shared exhaustion had them vulnerable, _exposed_ to one another.

Bernie had, for the first time in _years_ , allowed herself to break down in front of another human being. She had voiced her feelings, her guilt, her regret, her pain… and Serena hadn’t retreated in fear. Instead, the other woman had reached out and Bernie had surprised herself by allowing Serena to do so. Bernie had smiled and the brunette had promptly mirrored her features. However, the tender smile hadn’t been a response to Serena’s words, but to Serena’s existence as a _whole_.

The moment had been so… _intimate_. How else was she supposed to have punctuated it? _The kiss_ … which had been delightfully returned with fervor that soon had simmered down as lips had forgotten the meaning of _disbelief_ and had languidly relished in each other’s company… 

“I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Bernie offered, clearing her throat and hoping her mind would follow suit, before looking up at the woman that now stood right in front of her.

“Nonsense.” Serena replied with an ease that had Bernie feeling somewhat jealous.

Things had resumed to normality after their little toast to keeping their _undeniable sexual chemistry_ reserved to theatre. At least they _appeared_ to have.

Bernie had noticed Serena visibly pondering her little… _touches_ , but she also hadn’t missed when the other woman had thrown caution to the wind and decided on carrying on with her very hands-on, both metaphorical and literal, approach to life. Then again, that _was_ Serena Campbell. A caretaker in every sense of the word. After all she had seen and gone through, Serena remained humane, remained in touch with herself and others. People at Holby loved her, _cherished_ her, even if some would never admit it out loud. Serena was present and available and _there_.

_So unequivocally there._

Bernie was the one denying herself, _fighting_ the urge to keep Serena as close as possible, and at all times. It was frustrating and left her both breathless and exhausted. _It is for the best_ , she kept telling herself. What she had forgotten to consider at the time of her little surge of wisdom, and was _painfully_ reminded every time she saw the brunette or closed her eyes, was the fact that choosing not to act on it didn’t actually eliminate its existence.

Serena had, in a matter of hours, made sense of a situation that would have taken a common human being of her age, social background and experience, probably _years_ to chew through. She had never, not even for one millisecond, pretended it hadn’t happened. She had acknowledged it, looked it straight in the eye. She then had attempted to downplay it, to pretend it was nothing, absolutely _no big deal_. Once at ease with playing said part, she had faced it as a reality.

 _Serena Campbell, lesbian_.

She had said it out loud, tasting its bittersweetness. At that point, with the blueprint of one of the world’s scariest rollercoasters in hand, she had bought a ticket for the first row. Her hands might have been shaking, yes, but she had put herself out there.

The brunette had sat down and buckled up. She had brought her Shiraz as liquid courage, but her mind had already been set. High ups, low downs and whatever in between. And then Bernie had offered her an unsolicited way out instead of a reassuring hand. Too stunned to react, Serena had found herself… _alone_. Oh, and still attracted to a woman… who happened to be her best friend.

“How’s freedom treating you?” Serena asked as she rescued the lighter from the blonde’s momentarily inept hands.

Bernie had busied herself with the task of lighting her cigarette. It was supposed to be an escape from Serena’s captivating and penetrating eyes, but ended up leading her in a much more dangerous, and entirely opposite, direction. Not only had their fingers met as the other woman had retrieved the uncooperative lighter, she had then used her free hand to hold the loose strands of hair away from her eyes as to distance them from the flame. Her body reacted, leaning towards Serena’s touch, before she had time to acknowledge what was happening.

“It's all a bit pants, I’m afraid.” Bernie answered, closing her eyes at her admission and sighing deeply as Serena’s fingertips tentatively moved to soothe the frown that had taken over the blonde’s face at first contact. “Can’t say I wasn’t warned.” She smiled shyly, bringing the cigarette to her lips and using her hands as a shield from the wind as Serena lighted it while holding the blonde’s hair safely away.

Bernie took a long drag off her cigarette, a veil of smoke abandoning her mouth a moment later. Serena’s hand was still in place, the other gripping the lighter tightly. She was undeniably… _enthralled_ , her eyes clearly set upon Bernie’s lips. The air between them grew stiff and still, as if the world had suddenly stopped to watch the scene. Calling it _undeniable sexual chemistry_ would be the understatement of the century. The current scenario exuded sexuality, sensuality, _lust_ … but also longing, _affection_.

“What did I ever do without you…” Bernie whispered as her free hand came to meet Serena’s on her face, keeping it in place while intertwining their fingers.

“You tell me.” Serena’s tone was gentle, her eyes hopeful as they travelled from their joined hands to Bernie’s.

“Look, Serena…”

Bernie looked down, gathering her thoughts and trying to come up with the right words to express what she was feeling. She had gone from craving Serena’s touch to _wanting_ her and then to _needing_ her. It was overwhelming, to say the least, but also extraordinarily… _empowering_. Serena was right there, _here_ , waiting.

“Oh dear, nothing good ever started like that.” There was exasperation in Serena’s voice. The brunette took a deep breath, calming herself down, before using their joined hands to prompt Bernie to look back at her. “You are being _sensible_. It wouldn’t be my course of action, but I _respect_ your decision.”

Bernie gulped, not daring to interrupt but fearing the path Serena’s speech, much like her own had, was taking.

“ _However_ , I must tell you that what _we_ have, it doesn’t _just_ happen.” She sighed, using her thumb to caress Bernie’s knuckles. “I understand your reluctance. I have never been with a woman before, who knows what might happen…” She used her free arm to dramatize the words. “The only thing I am sure of is that I care about you. I care a great deal about you. I am also physically attracted to you, sure. Then again, how could I not be? I am just human after all!”

Bernie could tell Serena was getting slightly sidetracked by the way her before quiet and confident tone seemed to be wavering. It was… _endearing_.

“At the end of the day, though, it’s your company I miss the most. Not the woman, not the ex-wife, not the _big macho army medic_ , but _you_ , Berenice Wolfe, the person.” Serena paused for a breath, searching Bernie’s eyes for a reaction before carrying on. “It still frightens the life out of me, of course. _Wanting_ is scary, but _needing_ is downright terrifying. It requires taking a leap of faith, trusting, letting someone in...” She then squeezed Bernie’s hand. “We’re already there, though. We’ve been there for a long time.” She smiled, sadly but reassuringly. “I want this, _us_. I need you more, though, and I will gladly take our friendship over nothing.”

Bernie stood, dumbfounded, staring at the woman in front of her. How was Serena Campbell even real? She had admitted her feelings without pressuring Bernie into anything. This honesty towards herself, and now Bernie, was what allowed her to remain so tranquil through the storm they had been facing apart.

Serena was a safe haven, _her_ safe haven. Her _first port of call_.

“Great speech, Fräulein.” The blonde finally replied, getting rid of her cigarette before taking one step closer, her free hand coming to meet the back of the other woman’s neck. “You are brilliant. You know that, right?”

“So I’ve been told.”

Bernie smiled at Serena’s matter-of-fact tone, resting her forehead against the brunette’s. She instantly closed her eyes, reveling in the exhilarating and intoxicating proximity.

“Wisdom was never truly my strong suit.” Bernie announced after a moment of comforting silence, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of Serena’s mouth.

“I am certainly not complaining.”

This time they met halfway.

No certainties. No doubts.

They would figure it out on the way. _Together_.

**Author's Note:**

> Things escalated rather quickly. Serena was only going to help Bernie light up her cigarette... but then it all just sort of happened. I swear they write themselves together, whether I like it or not.


End file.
